Duplicity (34 page)

A deep silence followed, until, by tacit consent, they started to speak about other things, their own likes and dislikes, including Dilly in the conversation until, before they knew it, they were drawing up in the station car park.

‘You don’t have to wait,’ Roselle said, as they got out. ‘Get back to your dad and spend as much time with him as you can. When were you intending going home?’

‘I had three weeks’ vacation to come, so I took them all. There’s still sixteen days to go, so, hopefully, I’ll manage to persuade him to come with me.’

‘What’ll your wife say about having him living with you?’

‘I neither know, nor care,’ he said, turning away. ‘Goodbye, Roselle, Dilly. Hope to see you again some time.’

‘He’s nice,’ the girl observed, as they made their way to the correct platform.

‘Mmmm.’ But Roselle’s mind had suddenly jumped ahead. How was she to explain all this to Brian?

Frank was very glad of his son’s company, but he was not at all enamoured of the idea of going to live with him. He’d only met Frank’s wife once, at their wedding, and she’d seemed a right madam. A woman who liked her own way and damn the consequences.

No, he didn’t think he could be happy there. In any case, as he told Andrew, he was quite happy here in his own house. It would be lonely without Helen, of course, but he’d get used to that, and he’d always have his memories. He’d been doing all the cooking and housework for years, anyway, so that would be nothing new.

The two men were sitting by the fire this rainy day, and having exhausted all topics of conversation that they could think of, were awkwardly silent.

‘Dad,’ Andrew said, suddenly, ‘what are those big books sitting along the sideboard?’

So used to flicking them with the feathery duster every other day, Frank had more or less forgotten what they were, but suddenly realising that this was something that should interest his son, he said, ‘Take one down and have a look.’

Removing the volume nearest to him, Andrew was, indeed, eager to see the contents of
Album No. 1,
and settled down to follow the lives of his parents, starting with their wedding portrait - an upright young man in a dark suit beaming proudly as he stood behind the very beautiful girl in the chair, who was smiling shyly at the camera.

‘I didn’t realise Mum was so pretty,’ he exclaimed. ‘No wonder you married her.’

‘She’s always been lovely to me,’ Frank murmured. ‘And she’ll carry on being lovely for as long as I live.’

‘You’re an old romantic, aren’t you? But you were quite handsome yourself.’

‘Get away with you.’

Number One having divulged all its secrets, the two men recalling all the events of Andrew’s childhood, he replaced it and took down
Album No.2.
He couldn’t help chuckling at all the different hairstyles he had adopted during his teens, and the number of different girls he had dallied with. One, in particular, held his attention for some time.

Mandy Troup had been his steady for about two years, and, came the awful truth, she was the one he should have married. Even-tempered, but not a mouse, she could stand her ground about anything she felt strongly about, but, unlike Peggy, she could be rational.

‘Would you have any idea what happened to Mandy, Dad?’ he asked, casually.

‘She’s married with five kids,’ Frank smiled, then sobered as he recalled how Helen had felt about that. ‘They should have been our grandchildren,’ she had said once. But there was no need to tell the lad that.

So the afternoon went on, but it was
Album No.5
that seemed to interest Andrew most - dozens of snaps of two charming children, following their growth from babies to toddlers to sturdy, possibly five-year-olds. Even the typed captions at the foot of each page gave him no hint as to their identities. ‘Who are Dyllis and Roderick, Dad?’ he asked, because something told him that they had once meant a lot to him.

Frank shook his head at this ignorance. ‘Dilly and Roddy, of course.’

‘The Dilly who was here?’

‘Aye, Roselle’s twins, but she told me Roddy’s in New York now. They were real close twins, you know, hardly ever separate.’

‘So it’s Roselle with them in these snaps? I didn’t recognise her.’

‘Ah, well, she’s changed a good bit. From some of the things she said, I think she’s had her troubles.’ ‘You mean with her husband?’

‘No, not Brian, they’re still OK, it’s Dilly. She’s had some problem with a man, that’s why Roselle took her away for a few days, but I think she looked a lot better by the time she went home. Both of them did, in fact.’

‘You’ve no snaps of Brian, then? I’d be interested to see what he looks like.’

‘He was usually away working all day, but there should be one or two of him. He was a nice lad, though your mother thought he didn’t like her.’

It was only two pages later that Andrew gasped, ‘Is this him?’

Frank glanced over. ‘Aye, that’s him.’ Seeing his son’s concerned face, he said, ‘Hey, are you all right?’

‘I think so. Listen, I’m sure this man’s face is on a wanted poster I see every day.’

‘No, no, it couldn’t be Brian. He’s not a criminal.’

‘The man I’m speaking about
is
a criminal. I can’t say any more than that, but would you mind if I take this snap with me? I’ll give it back as soon as I can.’

‘Help yourself, lad, but I’m sure you’re barking up the wrong tree.’

Andrew felt equally as sure that he wasn’t, but said nothing further. Unfortunately, the damage had been done. The easy camaraderie that had sprung up between them again was lost, and he could hardly wait for the next morning, to get back into harness.

First up, Andrew looked up his mother’s address book where Roselle had written in her address in Cruden Bay before she went home. Mr & Mrs Brian Lewis. Well, that certainly wasn’t the name on the poster, but a change was only to be expected for a crime of that magnitude. Of course, he was only a suspect, but, from the information given at the time, he was also the only suspect, so his guilt was practically a certainty.

Roselle couldn’t get over how well Brian had accepted the fact that she and Dilly had gone to see Helen. In fact, he even seemed to be pleased about it. ‘Frank must really have been devastated by her death,’ he had said. ‘I’m sure he was glad to see you.’

‘He was,’ she admitted, ‘and I’m really glad I went. I didn’t know she had died, of course, and I felt bad about all the troubles she had suffered, but Frank never criticised me at all. His son was there as well, and he’s just as nice as his father.’

For a second, it did look as if Brian was feeling angry, or apprehensive, or something not very nice, then he smiled, a sad little smile. ‘How did Frank behave towards him? Was he annoyed that his son had never gone to see them?’

‘Not while we were there, but to be honest, I don’t think there was any ill feeling.’

‘Well, it’s good that you went just at that time. What’s Frank going to do now?’

‘Andrew was speaking about taking him to live with them, but I don’t think his father would want that. As far as I could make out, he doesn’t have a very good opinion of his daughter-in-law.’

‘Well it’s up to him. He shouldn’t be bulldozed into something he doesn’t want. Um - how was Dilly while you were there?’

‘She was fine. Like me, she was quite emotional at seeing Frank again, especially at such a sad time, but she cheered up. I think she’s got over whatever happened to her.’

‘Thank heaven for that. She seemed to be quite happy when she was studying the “Situations Vacant” column in the paper last night, and she’s speaking about going to the Job Centre in Aberdeen, or whatever they call it nowadays.’

On his way to work, Brian heaved a huge sigh of relief. Helen’s death had put an end to the fear that had hung over him like the Sword of Damocles ever since he’d learned that her son was a policeman in Northern Ireland. Having thought that he’d got away with what he had done, it was as if God was playing cat and mouse with him, and although it had got slightly easier since they’d moved to Cruden Bay, there had still been moments when blind terror had gripped him like a vice.

But, God be praised, he had nothing whatsoever to worry about now. It was over! After all, it was more than twenty years ago.

Chapter Twelve

Roderick Lewis liked the work he was doing, he quite liked the people he worked with, but he didn’t like New York much - especially in summer. It was so hot, he felt like ripping off every stitch of his clothing, but modesty prevailed. It might have been fun, though. Imagine the reaction he’d get from the painted, over-self-conscious females he generally came in contact with. Instead of the usual supercilious sneers they bestowed on him, they would be fighting to get the attention of this man with the manly physique, and he would take great pleasure in brushing them off - one by one.

Ah, well, there was no harm in dreaming, was there? Nor was there any point in it. He would have to face up to the fact that he didn’t fit in here, that making friends wasn’t as easy as it had been in Aberdeen, even in Cruden Bay. In other words - he was just plain homesick. He longed to see his mother again, to exchange banter with his father, to spend time with Dilly. No, no, don’t go down that road again!

The hand he slid into his back pocket found nothing, zippo, zilch! His first thought was what had he done with his wallet? Then it dawned on him - he had been robbed.

He’d been sitting here daydreaming instead of keeping alert to that possibility. Only now it wasn’t just a possibility, it was a godawful certainty. He couldn’t pay for his coffee and burger. The police would be sent for, he’d be arrested and bundled into their van, he’d be charged with theft and nobody would believe that he was the victim, not the thief.

He cast his eyes round wildly, but of course the person responsible wouldn’t have hung around. He didn’t come in here often, but he had been a few times before, so maybe one of the seemingly dozens of girls and boys would remember him and vouch for him? Probably not.

He caught the eyes of the elderly lady sitting in the corner. She looked respectably approachable, but, on the other hand, she could be the kind that would yell for help if anyone did approach her. The only others diners were very young, sixteen or seventeen at most, who were totally absorbed in deep conversation - about boyfriends, no doubt. He couldn’t appeal to them. They would either spit in his eye or kick his private parts.

‘Excuse me, but can I be of any help?’

He looked up into bright blue eyes twinkling with -surely not? - amusement. ‘Sorry?’

‘I recognised your panic, and I knew exactly what had happened. You must be more careful, you know. You shouldn’t keep your money in your hip pocket. Just asking for trouble. Now, if you’ll allow me to settle your bill, I …’

‘Oh, no, I can’t let you … you don’t know me.’

‘I know you better than I did a few moments ago.’ She giggled at his perplexed expression. ‘I know you’re Scottish, and you’re not altogether happy working in New York. You’ve proved you’re a perfect gentleman, unable to ask anyone for help, not even those young girls over there, which also tells me you are as honest as the day is long.’

Flabbergasted by her shrewd appraisal of his character he mumbled, ‘But I can’t …’

‘You can. There’s no shame in letting someone get you out of a hole. I’ve had to depend on other people many times in my life, and I’m none the worse for it.’

Yielding, he let her pay his bill as well as her own and followed her out of the diner.

‘I can’t thank you enough, Mrs, um, Miss …’

‘It’s Mrs Rayner, but just call me Philly, everybody does. Short for Phyllis.’

‘That’s funny. My sister’s name is Dyllis, but she’s always called Dilly.’

‘You see, we’re meant to be friends. What’s your name?’

‘Full name Roderick Lewis, known as Roddy. Look, I don’t live far from here. If you walk round with me, I can write you a cheque for what I owe.’

‘I don’t want to be paid back, but something tells me you need someone to talk to. A problem shared is a problem halved, you know. I promise not to judge you, whatever you tell me. I’m a good listener.’

He pushed aside all thoughts of returning to work, and in his Spartan room on the second floor, he told her exactly why he had left Cruden Bay in the first place, and why the friendship he had made in Liverpool had gone belly-up. As she had said, she was a good listener, nodding here and there but not saying one word until his relationship with the nanny had also been exposed.

‘I can understand why you feel the world’s against you, Roddy, especially after having your wallet stolen as well, but you have your whole life ahead of you. Look for another job, if you think that would help, or—’ She broke off and regarded him searchingly. ‘I do realise that you can’t tell your parents how you feel abut Dilly, but is there nobody in Scotland who would understand and advise you? An older person, a woman preferably, who knows your family and can see a way out for you?’

Roddy couldn’t explain why the only person to come into his mind was Helen Milne. ‘There is a woman,’ he murmured, slowly, ‘though I haven’t seen her for years. We used to call her Auntie Helen, but she was more like a grandmother than an aunt. We lived next door to her, so she knew the family well, and I’m sure I could talk to her … like I’ve been talking to you.’

‘Yes, but sadly, not knowing your parents, I can’t really advise you. The only thing I
can
say is - go back to Scotland. See this Auntie Helen. Be brutally honest about Dilly, lay your heart absolutely bare to her, let her question you as much as she wants, discuss it with her, give careful consideration to any advice she gives you. Go ahead only when you are absolutely convinced of what you should do.’ She held out her hand. ‘That’s my considered opinion. Goodbye, Roderick Lewis and good luck.’

He was so involved in absorbing everything she had said, that she was probably out on the sidewalk before he realised she had gone. She had given him much to think about, however, and, sure that she was right, he wrote a letter of resignation there and then - explaining that family problems prevented him from working the stipulated four weeks’ notice - and went out to post it. It didn’t take him long to pack, his possessions still fitted easily into the travelling bag he’d arrived with, and then, remembering that there was one more thing he should do, he went downstairs to settle up with Mrs Flynn.